


All I Want for Christmas

by crisiskris



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship, meddling in the affairs of wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 11:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13787238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisiskris/pseuds/crisiskris
Summary: Albus wants to give Harry a Christmas present.





	All I Want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2003 Slash Advent Calendar, December 23rd. Not canon-compliant as it takes place in Harry's graduating year. That would make Harry 17 which in the country from which I am writing is above the age of consent, but I figured I'd mark it as "underage" since he is not yet technically an adult. 
> 
> Beta'd by the incredible Gaaak.

Albus Dumbledore was a man with a plan.  It was mid-December, and in a few scant months his favorite students would be graduating.  He wanted to make sure that they all got exactly what they wanted for Christmas.   Since his motivations were pure, he didn’t really mind the fact that in order to discover exactly what each of them wanted for Christmas, he was going to have to perform a little surreptitious Legilimens over the next few weeks.

He did Ron Weasley first, mostly because he was the easiest.  Unlike Harry, Ron hadn’t been spending month after month training in Occlumency, and unlike Hermione, he wasn’t the brightest student in the school.  Albus took the opportunity to jump into the redhead’s mind one morning over a bit of breakfast.  Most of the Gryffindor table was already empty, since the Weasley boy had gotten up typically late, which meant that Albus had a clear shot.  “Legilimens,” he whispered.  Ron didn’t even twitch.

Albus was pleasantly surprised to see that things were a little more complex in there than he’d suspected.  Thoughts of girls, mostly Hermione, but occasionally Hannah Abbott, who’d definitely grown up to be quite a young woman, crowded his brain, but underneath those were twisted bits of logic and strategy that Albus recognized as chess games.  The boy was quite brilliant at chess, he remembered.  He amused himself mentally playing out some of the games with Ron’s memories, but tired of it as he lost time and again. Finally, he whispered, “What do you want for Christmas?” and waited for the thought to emerge.

What he saw nearly broke his heart.  Instead of a girl, or a magic chess set, Ron’s mind conjured up a picture of his family – his *entire* family, including his estranged older brother, Percy.  They were all laughing and talking, exchanging gifts as if the rift between the young man and his parents had never existed.  Ron wanted his family to be happy at Christmas.  ‘Well,’ thought Albus, ‘that could probably be arranged.’  Percy had been a good student, and seemed to especially respect Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw.  Albus was confident he could get the diminutive professor to talk to the young man, and believed that Professor Flitwick would convince Percy to go home.  A few anonymous gifts under the tree on Christmas ever from an old man with a long white beard, and voila!  A happy Christmas for the Weasley family.

 +++

Hermione was next on his list.  She was a little harder to get to, mostly because she was so very alert these days.  Hermione had quickly moved to the top of her classes in everything, and was as skilled and attentive a witch as had ever passed through Hogwarts.  Because she was so bloody smart, Albus had to wait until she was really distracted to get to her; otherwise he feared she’d notice the spell and catch him out.  At last his opportunity came, late one night as she sat in the library, absorbed in some monstrous tome.  “Legilimens,” he whispered, and though she perked up her head and looked around, she did not see him, nor identify the spell that had been cast.  After a moment, she went back to reading.   


Hermione’s mind was exactly what Albus expected – organized, practical, and full of information.  He picked his way through her thoughts and memories, marveling at the way everything was labeled so neatly: “friends”, “charms homework”, “forbidden books from the restricted section”, and so forth.  She had an amazing capability for recalling information, and now he knew why – it was as if everything she knew was easily accessible, just waiting for her to call on it.  He snorted in amusement as he passed a bunch of thoughts labelled “Legilimens spell”.  Finally, he found a comfy place to sit and whispered, “What do you want for Christmas?”

A bundle of thoughts nearby gently stirred, and one of them untangled.  Slowly, it worked its way toward Albus, unfurling as it came.  When it finally came to a rest before him, it was completely open: a still shot of a grinning boy with flaming red hair: Ron Weasley.  Albus smiled broadly.  The girl who knew everything wanted the youngest Weasley son for Christmas – well, that was as predictable as her reaction to everything else was.  He’d anticipated this, and had already casually suggested to Arthur one night that Hermione’s parents were going to spend the holidays in Spain, and that she would be alone here at Hogwarts.  Of course, Arthur and Molly had immediately insisted that she should be allowed to come to the Burrow for Christmas – Albus just hadn’t informed the young lady yet.   


As for the rest of it, well… Albus didn’t imagine it would be too difficult to plant the seed in Ron’s mind.  The boy was already thinking of young Hermione, he just needed a bit of confidence and a push in the right direction.  The next day, as he passed Mr. Weasley in the hall, he whispered a quick spell while smiling and saying hello.  It was a time-released suggestion that Ron get Hermione under the mistletoe for one quick kiss, a friendly jest.  Hermione, he was sure, would do the rest.

Ron didn’t even notice the spell, nor did any of the group of boys he was walking with.  Someone did, though, and he mentioned it the minute that he found Albus alone in the staffroom.  “Why are you casting suggestibility spells on the students, Albus?” he said directly, in a bored tone, as he poured himself a cup of tea.  Albus’s jaw swung open and he gaped for a moment.

“Why – my dear Severus, I have no idea what you’re talking about -” he spluttered.  Severus just gave him a disbelieving look.

“I saw you cast a suggestibility spell on Ron Weasley only moments ago.  Something about Miss Granger and some mistletoe?”  The dark eyes pierced into him.  “Playing matchmaker again, are we, Albus?” he continued in his silky voice.

Albus laughed, a little nervously.  “Come now, Severus, I wouldn’t interfere if love weren’t already there, waiting for them to realize it,” he replied, smiling his most innocent smile.  Severus just snorted, looking at him with the same suspicious look he always had.  Albus was afraid he’d pursue it, but after a moment Severus merely raised an eyebrow, turned on his heel, and walked out. 

 +++

Chagrined, Albus resolved to be a little more discreet in his last quest, Harry Potter himself.  He waited until one day when Severus was sitting at the far end of the staff table, and the Gryffindors were all engrossed in their lunchtime meal, before casting his third Legilimens spell.

“Protego,” Harry Potter said automatically, his use of the shield spell earning a few strange looks at the table.  He shook his head.  “Sorry, thinking out loud,” he said to Neville and Dean.  To Ron and Hermione, he whispered, “I think Snape is trying to test me – he just cast the Legilimens spell on me.”  As unobtrusively as possible, the trio turned to look at the staff table.  As it happened, Harry caught Snape’s eye.  The potions master merely raised an eyebrow before turning his attention to the Slytherin table.   


“That bastard,” Ron seethed.  “He’s trying to trip you up!”

“No, no, it’s okay, Ron,” Harry replied.  “He didn’t even get past me – whatever he thought he’d accomplish, I showed him!”  With a satisfied smile, he turned back to his food.

Up at the head table, Albus was eyeing the young Gryffindor thoughtfully.  This was going to be more challenging than he thought…

 +++

The next time he tried was during a Quidditch game.  He thought that with Harry being so distracted, he would be able to get in.  From his vantage point on the stands, Albus watched the seeker fly through the air, eyes intent on his surroundings.  Gryffindor scored against Slytherin, and the crowd began to cheer.  Albus used this moment to whisper, “Legilimens.”

“Protego!” Harry shouted, his shout drowned out by those around him.  He spun about on his broom to glare at Snape, who stood in the Slytherin stands with his arms crossed.  Harry’s face was going red.  He looked like he was about to fly right over to the Potions master and give him a piece of his mind, when suddenly a gold blur went whizzing by him, followed closely by Draco Malfoy.  The snitch!  Leaving Snape for the time being, Harry urged his broom around and took off.

Later that evening, there was a knock at Albus’s door.  The Headmaster called for the person to enter, and Severus Snape stepped into the study, his hands folded into his sleeves.  “I’ve just had the most interesting conversation with Mr. Potter,” he said by way of introduction, not even giving Albus the time to offer his customary tea and lemon drop.  Albus was caught off guard.

“Oh, really?” He hedged, uneasy.

“Oh, yes.”  Severus glided up to the desk, his eyes glittering.  “Apparently, Mr. Potter believes that I’ve been throwing Legilimens at him at random intervals, to test whether he can bolster his mind when he has no time to prepare.  Apparently, I’ve done so twice.  Mr. Potter informs me that he didn’t mind so much in the Great Hall, but that casting the spell at the Quidditch game was wholly inappropriate, and if I ever dare to do it again, he’ll go straight to the Headmaster himself.”   


Albus couldn’t meet Severus’ eye.  He fiddled with some papers on his desk.  “How odd,” he replied, his voice ringing hollow.

“Indeed.  Especially since I have not been casting Legilimens on Mr. Potter outside of those infernal Occlumency lessons you convinced me to restart.”  Severus began to pace around the room, leisurely, like a big cat tracking its prey.  “This of course made me wonder who *was* casting Legilimens on the Boy-Who’s-Supposed-To-Save-Us-All.  And I recalled an incident the other day where someone was casting memory spells on another student – a friend of Mr. Potter’s, in fact.”  He stopped pacing and turned to face Albus head-on.  “You were that person, if I recall.”

“Indeed I was,” Albus’s voice was no more than a whisper.  Suddenly he felt something wet hit his face and he looked up, startled.  “Severus, that was uncalled for!” he exclaimed despite himself.

Severus was holding a small vial, uncapped, in his hand.  He was watching Albus’s face closely.  After a moment, he set the vial down and shook his head.  “I apologize, Headmaster,” he said formally, “But given this strange behavior, I required some assurance of your identity.”  Realization dawned in Albus’s eyes.  When a person took polyjuice potion, their skin excreted minute traces of a certain ingredient that could be detected simply by splashing water on the skin. If the water turned yellow, the test was positive.  Albus wiped the clear liquid off his brow.

“Severus, you surprise me.  You’ve become paranoid,” he chided, pouring them both a cup of tea.  The Potions master chose not to answer, merely raising his customary brow.  “But of course I guess that’s to be expected given your line of work.  And I must say that I do appreciate your dedication to ensuring the ongoing safety of Mr. Potter.  Rest assured I mean the boy no harm!”

Severus wouldn’t give up so easily, however.  “What are your intentions, then, Albus?  I can think of no honest reason for using such a powerful spell on a student.”   


Albus’s shoulders sagged.  Perhaps Severus was right – it wasn’t a good idea after all.  “I only wanted to know what the boy wanted for Christmas,” he admitted softly.  “I just wanted to ensure that he had a good Christmas this year – you know the time draws near…” his voice trailed off.   


Severus was unmoved.  “If you desire to know what Mr. Potter wants for Christmas, Albus,” he lectured, “then perhaps you should ask him.” Albus did not reply.  He stood there studying his shoes for a few minutes, feeling ashamed.  When at last he looked up, Severus was already gone.

 +++

It was the next night before Albus gathered up his courage (contrary to popular belief, he had been a Ravenclaw, not a Gryffindor) and went looking for the boy.  Severus was right – Harry was not someone who would appreciate having his mind peered into, even if the results were pleasurable.  It was better to be straightforward about the whole thing.  The only problem was actually finding Harry.  He wasn’t in his dorm, or in the Gryffindor common room.  Not in the library or the Great Hall, and certainly not out in the storm that howled around the castle.  Finally, Albus succeeded in tracking Ron down, who was destroying Filius Flitwick in a game of wizard chess.  “Oh, I think he had detention with Snape,” Ron replied, not taking his eyes off the game.

Albus smiled.  Perfect.  Not only would he get to know what Harry wanted for Christmas, he would also prove his honorable intentions to Severus and simultaneously disrupt the detention, which he knew would nettle the Potions master.  There was nothing more fun that teasing Severus Snape!  He walked leisurely toward the Potions classroom and was about to stroll inside when voices from within stopped him.

“So I told him that you’d confronted me about the Legilimens spell, and that you said you’d go to him if I didn’t stop!” Severus was laughing, actually laughing – it was a foreign sound to Albus’s ears, and it intrigued him.  He leaned closer to the door to listen.   


“I knew it was him all along,” Harry Potter replied.  “I hope he was embarrassed.”

“Oh yes,” Severus purred in reply.

“Good.  He deserves a taste of his own medicine, fooling about with people’s minds like that!”  Harry laughed, and Severus joined in, rich and throaty.  There was a comfortable silence before Harry spoke again, this time unambiguously flirtatious, “So, you want to know what’s on my mind right now?” he asked.

“Mmmm,” Severus replied.  “I don’t think I need a spell to figure that one out.  I’ve only to look at your trousers.” They laughed again, but this time the laugh was somehow more private, holding more meaning.   


“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Harry confessed.  Albus heard the sound of chairs scraping backwards.  “I wanted to pounce on you after Potions class and shag you senseless against the cabinet.”

“Is that why you tried so hard to draw detention?” Severus was murmuring now, his voice muffled for some reason.  Albus leaned closer, pressing his ear against the door.

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed, the word coming out breathy and desperate.  “And why were you so willing to give it to me?”

“Mmmm.  Quidditch.  You straddling a broomstick.  Drove me wild,” Severus sounded quite distracted.  “Yes, just like that.  Just – like that, aaaahhh.”  Albus drew in a quick breath – was Severus moaning?

“Oh, god, Severus, you’re so tight, fuck, so good - ” Harry was babbling, a string of words caressed by Severus’s gasps and moans.  There was the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and all in a flash, Albus realized what was going on.  He drew back, scandalised.

Sex!  They were having sex – in the Potions classroom, a teacher and a student, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, the Boy Who Lived and Severus Snape, the greasy git, the Death Eater spy – having sex!  Right behind this door!  Albus sputtered in indignation, wanting to barge in and demand an explanation, wanting to run and hide and never think of it again, but feeling unable to leave where he was standing, rooted to the spot as the cries from within the room got louder, more desperate, until both men shouted their release and became silent, except for the panting as they tried to catch their breath.   Albus counted to a hundred, figuring that would be enough time for them both to get their robes back on.  He was just preparing to go storming through the door when the voices spoke up again.

“So,” Severus asked, “What *do* you want for Christmas?”

“I’ve already got what I want,” Harry replied.  “I’ve got you, my love.”

“My love.”

Albus had never heard such emotion in either man’s voice.  He stopped to consider them – dark, mysterious, controlled by fates larger than their own.  Both were stubborn as hell, with an ethical standard that forbade them from doing anything but the right thing.  Neither would back down, but both would die for you in a fight.  And both were giving their lives selflessly to the Light.  When he thought about it, it actually made sense.  He lowered the hand that was about to pound on the door and stepped away.  They were happy.  That was the other thing.  Neither of them had had much happiness thus far in their lives.  Who was he to believe he should take that away, especially since he’d started out wanting so much to make Harry’s Christmas a good one?   


At last decided, Albus turned firmly around and marched out of the dungeons.  By the time he made it to the ground floor, he was smiling and whistling a Christmas carol.  All was well.

 +++

“Is he gone?” Harry whispered.  He lay on the floor, his back against Severus’s chest, the older man’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Yes,” Severus replied, burying his face in Harry’s hair. “He’s gone.”

“Do you think he’ll say anything?”  Harry persisted.

Severus gave him a squeeze.  “In an official way, no.  And I doubt he’ll say anything to you.  I, however, will never hear the end of it.  As soon as he realizes I’m happy, he’ll be all joy and celebration for my good fortune, I’m sure.”  He sneered, though his heart wasn’t really in it.   One of Harry’s hands snaked up to stroke the Potions master’s face.

“Did you just say you were happy with me?” he asked.  Severus smiled.

“You don’t miss anything, do you?” He murmured.  Harry shook his head.  “Yes, Harry,” Severus replied after a moment.  “I’m happy.  Very happy.”

Harry turned in his arms to regard him.  Severus’s eyes were bright with emotion.  He wasn’t crying, though he looked like he might start.  Harry kissed his eyelids anyway.  “So am I, Severus,” he replied.  “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Harry.”  They lay in silence, embracing one another and drifting, as outside them, the storm dissipated into a gentle layering of snow.


End file.
